


(I Want You to) Stay

by zayngasm



Series: love songs [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crack, Harry Liam and Zayn are in another band, I Don't Even Know, Insomnia, Louis and Niall are in a band, M/M, OT5 Friendship, Pansexual Character, Pining, Social Anxiety, This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever written, Touring, Zayn Has a Crush, Zayn has a tumblr, also, and they go on tour together, be warned, fanboy!Louis, niam friendship, zarry friendship - Freeform, zouis friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 00:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zayngasm/pseuds/zayngasm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“So you’re just going to hide in this hotel room for the rest of your life?” Harry asks.</i><br/>Zayn nods. “As a matter of fact, yes. Room service, a nice bed, what more do I need?” </p><p> </p><p>also known as Operation Ziam, or the one in which Louis ships Ziam more than everyone else combined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(I Want You to) Stay

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, so this obviously isn't another chapter of letting go. oops? sorry? college is cruel. anyways. i wrote this a long ass time ago and finally finished it because i didn't want to do homework. also i was listening to one direction and got nostalgic and sad. so here you go. 
> 
> this stemmed 100% from the idea of louis being a fanboy. 
> 
> also 'change my mind - one direction' 
> 
>  
> 
> also, pssst. possible trigger warning: zayn says something about wanting to take a bunch of pills and never wake up again and then louis is worried about leaving him alone. i didn't include it in the tags, but i thought i'd warn everyone just in case.

Zayn remembers when he was a bit younger his parents and teachers would ask him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He’d think _singer_ and then _artist_ and finally land on _happy_ before saying, “Teacher” because he knew that was what they wanted to hear from him. Something more realistic and serious and concrete.

He pictured moments like this, sure, with a crowd of thousands screaming his name and singing along to songs he helped write, but he never imagined it being quite like this.

 

Liam’s off to one side, singing the first verse of one of their more popular songs, his hand in front of him, nearly to his crotch, in a way that’s almost sexual but completely not at the same time. _Unintentionally_ sexual, because it's  _Liam_. 

Harry’s off to the other side, thrusting a little in tune with the song, completely over exaggeratingly and _Harryish_ and _completely and on purposely_ sexual. He then starts laughing at some girl’s sign that says something about someone’s ‘pussy’ but pussy is scribbled out and ‘dick’ is written in big fat letters above it.

It’s all completely normal and just another average night for them. Their fans have gotten a bit older; their songs are a little more raunchy; and even though Harry’s never officially _come out_ of the closet, everyone just somehow _knows_ that he swings every which way - it’s never something that he’s tried to hide - and Zayn thinks the fans just love him more for being himself. For being so open, for fighting the system even if he can’t come out and say ‘I’m pansexual,’ like he wants to. Their sales (to the almost disgruntled surprise of their record label) have never faltered at least.

When it’s his turn to sing, Zayn grips his microphone tightly in his hand and steps up to center stage, belting out lyrics like his life depends on it.

Which, if he had to be honest, it kind of does.

+

They have an interview too early in the morning.

Zayn’s nursing a tea in one hand while his other arm rests on the couch behind Liam. Harry’s on Liam’s other side. They always sit like this; Zayn and Harry get into too much trouble when they’re beside each other, goofing off and cracking jokes; and this way Liam can keep Zayn from falling asleep and stop Harry before he says anything _too_ ornery.

They’ve gone through the usual questions about the upcoming tour, news on their third album they’ve been working on – still in the writing process so it’s a ways off – when the interviewer leans back in her chair, tucks a strand of bleached blonde hair behind her ear and smiles slyly. It’s getting less serious, more relaxed; Zayn knows that look.

When it comes to serious questions they let Liam take charge, because really all Harry and Zayn do is follow Liam’s lead. Zayn doesn’t even known when the tour starts, to be honest, knows Liam will remind him when he needs to start getting ready, when he should go back home and see his parents one last time.

Questions like the ones he knows are coming, the ones that have been sent in by fans and are burning their way through everyone’s mind, Zayn can handle. They’re usually about crushes, music, or the "shipping wars" between the fans  – usually about him and Liam, or him and Harry, or Harry and insert random person's name here. Ziam and Zarry fans are always battling for popularity. It’s a common topic amongst them and not an interview goes by without someone bringing it up.

“So trending on twitter this week is Ziam,” the interviewer notes, crossing her legs, her notebook in her lap.

Zayn instinctively sits up a little straighter, doesn’t really know why he does it. (Okay, he does, but he tries not to think too much about it. It doesn't change anything.)

Liam laughs next to him, his whole body vibrating with his amusement, and ‘ha’s’ right in Harry’s face.

Harry just leans back, eyes contemplative. “Don’t really know why,” he drawls, “since me and Zayn are the ones _really_ in love.”

Zayn nods and takes a sip of his tea, not bothering to glance over in Harry’s direction. “S’true. That’s why Liam here always has to keep us apart. He’s like a barrier for our love.”

“I’m actually having separation anxiety right now,” Harry continues, pouting. “Zayn, you’re too far away.”

Zayn doesn’t have to look, can picture Harry leaning his head back, his curls falling over his shoulder, and lower lip jutting out like he’s three instead of twenty-one. Zayn fights back a laugh but reaches over with the hand that isn’t holding his tea and pats Harry’s knee. “S’all right, babe, m’right here.” He thinks he sees Liam roll his eyes, but the boy doesn’t make a comment so Zayn retracts his hand and squeezes Liam’s shoulder. In a quieter voice, but loud enough the cameras and interviewer are sure to be picking up on everything, he says, “Just kidding, Li. You know I love you the most.”

Liam turns to him and smiles, amused, like it’s all a big joke, but Zayn doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it isn’t; it really, really isn’t.

+

He doesn’t know when his feelings for Liam turned from _friends and bandmates_ to _holy shit if I could have babies I’d want yours_ and finally to _I love you so much it_ _hurts_. He assumes it was a gradual thing – it has to be, right? – but it was like one day it just hit him in the chest, the overwhelming amount of _love_ \- not just physical (and eventually, sexual) attraction and fondness, but _love_ \- he has for the doe eyed boy _._

He remembers the day too.

They had been sitting backstage before their concert, already dressed and mostly just fucking around. Harry was cracking some joke, and Zayn had rolled his eyes and turned to Liam to catch his reaction.

Liam was bright and laughing, leaning back against the couch and Zayn’s outstretched arm, almost leaning into him.

He’d met Zayn’s eyes and smiled and all Zayn could think was _fuck I love you so much_.

And that had been that.

He’d never looked back.

+

When he’s bored or can’t sleep, Zayn will sometimes scroll through twitter and tumblr tags to see what people have to say about the band. It’s a bad habit really; he’s seen a lot of things he wishes he could take back (fanart of threesomes between them, comments about how awful one of their singing voices or songwriting is, homophobic comments towards them) but he can’t really stop himself. He’s never really sunk low enough to read fanfiction though, so at least there’s that.

That night, when he’s lying in bed and the numbers on his alarm clock tick over to read 1:03 A.M., he pulls out his phone.

There’re gifs of the interview on tumblr ( _already_ ).

The first one is of Zayn patting Harry’s knee and a recap of their conversation. The stream of tags below it is what always catches his attention.

#OMG #OTP #ZARRY #ladykillers #it’s alright harry #zayn loves you #he’s right there bby #ziam can suck it #WHO ARE THEY KIDDING #harrys pout though omg

There are a couple posts about the tour and how Zarry needs to get trending and beat Ziam (it’s a constant back and forth battle). Then there’s a gif of Zayn’s hand on Liam’s shoulder, squeezing and another right underneath it of when Zayn leaned in to tell Liam he loves him more.

He won’t admit this is what he was looking for the entire time.

#ziam #stop #look at zayn tho #he’s so in love #it physically hurts #help #otp of all otps

And there’s more and more and more, gifs of Zayn straightening up when he hears ‘ziam’ is trending (really should’ve seen that coming) and then Harry running his eyes over Zayn as he laughs and tags like #ARE WE REALLY SUPPOSE TO BELIEVE HE’S STRAIGHT #COME OUT ALREADY and even some posts screwing both ziam and zarry and pointing out that CLEARLY Liam and Harry are in love. The last post on the page is about all three of them and tags labeling them as the band of cocksuckers.

Zayn doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry so he exits out of the app, sets his phone on the nightstand and tries not to think about how pathetic he is.

+

Zayn’s half asleep in some abrupt, unplanned band meeting way too early ( _again_ ) the next morning. He hasn’t had any caffeine or nicotine yet and is staring at Simon - their manager - like ‘are you fucking kidding me right now’ but Simon and the other guys in the room start talking and Zayn catches on to a few words: _tour_ and _opening act_ and _one direction_.

The other two boys seem excited, but Zayn just blinks a couple times, trying to figure out what’s happening and Liam has to explain to him three times that some new-ish band, One Direction, is going on tour with them. Apparently the old possible headliners fell through.

He doesn’t know how he feels about this. Their headliners are usually solo artists who keep to themselves, or large acts that do their own thing. He’s definitely not as excited as Liam and Harry, who are gushing and watching One Direction videos on YouTube. Zayn kind of likes that it’s just been the three of them so far. One small unit. He’s comfortable with the way things are. He’s not good around new people.

He gets tense and nauseous all of a sudden and a string of _what ifs_ start circling his mind. He’s not the most social. What if this new band wants to be all buddy buddy? What if they’re assholes? What if they suck? What if they’re _awesome_ and Harry and Liam ditch Zayn for them…? What if? What if? What if?

Liam brings him out of his anxious thoughts by wrapping his fingers around Zayn’s wrist in a familiar gesture. He’s squeezing Zayn’s pulse point, can probably feel the blood pumping under his skin.

“You need a -?” he asks and Zayn nods before Liam even finishes. _Yeah, yeah, definitely._

+

With caffeine and nicotine coursing through his veins he can think a little more clearly. Not completely though, because his social anxiety likes to fuck with him, but clearly enough. The band One Direction sounds oddly familiar, so he does what he does best and takes it to the internet.

He realizes why they sound so familiar when Louis Tomlinson’s face is the first thing to pop up, along with an article about how they just recently signed a contract with Syco Music – the same record label White Eskimo is signed to.

Zayn’s heard their music and everything, and they’re pretty good. Louis’s usually singing while the Irish fellow, Niall, plays guitar, but sometimes Niall sings, too. They've got a indie rock feel to them. Mostly they’re getting well known for their energy on stage. He watches a video of one of their shows, and it’s just _insane_ . They’re always moving around, cracking jokes, making jibes about anything and everything; half the time they’re not even singing the right lyrics and they’re getting woman’s underwear and cellphones thrown on stage, but everyone _loves_ them because they’re so _alive_.

Zayn’s always been a bit jealous of people like that. Liam gets on really well with the crowd and is always talking and pumping them up, and Harry is well, _Harry_ , but Zayn’s never really found his spot in all the mix. He loves the band, of course, and knows this is where he’s supposed to be, but he still gets nervous before going on stage or when there are too many fans outside the van waiting for them. He talks to the audience, of course, but mostly it’s just to thank them for coming and supporting them.

Louis’s eyes stare up at him from the screen and it’s like he’s warning Zayn, telling him to prepare for what’s coming. That everything's going to change after this.

Feeling jittery, he slams his laptop shut.

+

The night before they officially meet the two members of One Direction, Zayn watches an interview of the boys from a couple days before.

It’s mostly mundane stuff at first, but even that Louis and Niall manage to make entertaining. Then the interviewer mentions them going on tour with White Eskimo and Niall sits up straight and exclaims, “It’s going to be awesome.”

“No nerves then?” the woman asks. “White Eskimo is doing really well for themselves.”

Louis laughs, leans back and shakes his head. “Us? Nervous? _Please_. They’re the ones who should be nervous. We are going to rock their world.”

And then he snaps his fingers.

In a z-formation.

Literally like some stereotypical fourteen-year-old valley girl.

It continues on for a bit. He hears the front door jiggle and he’s about to stop the video and get up until Liam appears in his doorway, tucking the spare key Zayn gave him into his pocket. He drops down on the couch beside him and doesn’t say a word.

The interviewer on camera is in the middle of mentioning Ziam trending on twitter.  

Liam chokes out a laugh. “Oh my God, is she serious?”

 _This is definitely getting out of hand_ , he thinks, but says, “Surprised management hasn’t pounced on us yet.”

“Probably because it’s so good for sales,” Liam replies offhandedly.

Niall on screen says, “It’s all twitter talks about.” He pauses and thinks this over. “Well, besides how great Louis’ arse looks in skinny jeans and  Zayn Malik’s quiff” – he feels weird, them mentioning him by name, and Liam laughs a little when he stiffens – “and how gay Harry Styles is.”

Zayn won’t argue with the last one – it really is all people talk about. Sometimes he feels it’s all they get asked about.

“It’s true,” Louis is in the middle of saying, “I have a fantastic arse.”

“He’s insured it,” Niall chimes in.

The interviewer laughs. “So Ziam or Zarry, who do you fancy?”

Louis’s hand immediately goes to his chest. “Oh my, God, Ziam, _duh_. My one true pair.”

“His one true _what_ ?” Liam asks, laughing. Zayn opens his mouth to explain, but then shuts it when he tries to imagine explaining to Liam _how_ he knows what one true pair means.

“What about you, Niall?”

Niall only thinks it over for half a second. “I ship me and food.” There’s more laughter from the interviewer and possibly the camera crew. Louis is nodding along all serious like. “Or,” Niall continues, “if I swung that way I’d ship me and Liam, ‘cause he’s quite fit.”

Liam chuckles and rests his head on Zayn’s shoulder. “Awe. That’s adorable.”

“Sorry,” Zayn says, trying to sound lighthearted, “he can’t have you.”

Liam’s laughter in response sounds like bells in his ear.

+

They don’t all actually have to get together before the tour. It isn’t required or even suggested, but Liam thought it would be a good idea. They’d be spending a lot of time together, might as well get to know each other before they were fighting over bunks in the buses and Harry was walking around flashing his junk at anyone and everyone without a care in the world.

So Louis and Niall meet them at White Eskimo’s recording studio. It’s bigger than One Direction’s seeing as the two have only been around for a year and White Eskimo has been topping charts for more than three.

Zayn’s tired (he’s always tired) so he’s got his head in Liam’s lap and he’s trying to nap, and Harry’s in the bathroom. That’s when Louis and Niall are escorted in by Paul. Liam’s tapping away on his phone. He slides it into his pocket and motions for Zayn to get up, but not before Louis’s eyes land on them. He literally jumps up a little and clasps his hands together, making a noise Zayn thought only young children were capable of making.

“Oh my God, you guys are so adorable. Can I take a picture so I have something to stare at every night before I go to bed?”

Zayn’s really not awake enough for this, but he gets up and Liam, chuckling, walks forward to shake their hands. Zayn does the same, just not as enthusiastically as Liam. Louis’s eyes meet his and there’s a twinkle there, almost like he can read Zayn or know everything that’s going on in his head. He doesn’t take his eyes off of him until Harry enters the room.

Louis then crosses his arms and a slightly frustrated look crosses his face. “So, like.” He pauses, hums a little, then continues. “How are you _more_ attractive in person?”

Harry’s answering laugh is loud and over the top, but he steps forward to pat Louis’s cheek like they have been friends forever and says, “It’s all thanks to the curls, love.”

Niall grumbles and announces that he’s starving and Liam offers to order some pizzas.

The blond clasps his hands together. “That is a fantastic idea. You’re already my favorite.”

And even though Zayn knows Niall was kidding in that interview, and that he really is straight, he feels queasy inside all of a sudden.

 

Liam was pretty sure he ordered too much pizza, but somehow they end up with only a couple slices left and Niall assures they won’t be there much longer.

There are couches all around them, but for some reason, they’re all on the floor. Louis is sprawled out, his head in Harry’s lap. They’re talking about music and Zayn’s actually paying attention and sort of contributing to the conversation, but then he realizes his cup is empty and he needs more soda. He leans over and asks Liam if he needs anything while he’s up, but Liam just shakes his head and goes back to talking to Niall about Adam Levine.

Louis' eyes follow him as he gets up, so Zayn asks if he needs anything.

“I’d like some caviar, please.”

Harry laughs a little and Zayn says, “I’ll get right on that.”

 

It gets late (or early) before any of them really notice. Even Zayn, who isn’t quite comfortable around them yet but has decided they might not be bad guys, doesn’t realize how much time has passed.

As much as Louis whines about having to get up, Liam claims they can’t very well _sleep_ at the studio, and sends them on their way.

He doesn’t know whether to be surprised or not when Louis pulls Harry down for a kiss before leaving. He is surprised, however, when Louis smacks Zayn’s bum on the way out the door, winking.

Harry sighs and turns around to bury himself in Zayn’s embrace. “Fuck, I think I’m in love.”

+

They hang out a couple more times after that, but then Zayn’s going home to see his family for a few days before they take off for tour.

He feels a little empty and lonely without Harry and Liam next to him, didn’t really realize he’d started to depend on them so much, but it’s nice to see his mum and he falls back into the comfortable routine of being home and hanging out with his sisters.

That night, when he can’t sleep, he opens up twitter just as Liam sends out a new tweet. 

_@zaynmalik miss you already x_

He's not sure why Liam doesn't just text him, but his heart swells up a little. There’s a moment before he replies when he lets himself imagine making a move, confessing all these feelings he’s been hiding for so long.

But then it comes screeching back that _duh_ Liam doesn’t feel about him that way and is probably straight – they’ve never really had that conversation, oddly enough.

It takes him a couple minutes longer to reply to the tweet.

_@liampayne miss you more x wish you were here_

It only takes about .5 seconds before twitter is alive and responses are flowing and #ziam is all he can see.

Of course then, Harry tweets and says,

_@zaynmalik I’m feeling the love_

And then

_#foreveralone_

Liam must be thinking the same thing as Zayn because shortly after he gets:

_@LiamPayne: @harrystyles oh shh go snog louis or something_

_@LouisTomlinson: @harrystyles i AM available for snogging !_

And when he refreshes, he sees something like #larry mixed in with all the #ziam’s and #zarry’s.

+

Zayn presses his palms to his eyes a little too harshly and watches the lights and images play behind his lids for a couple minutes before pulling away. He takes in a shaky breath and leans against the bathroom counter.

Oh God he’s going to be sick.

There’s a knock at the door and he’s not surprised to see Liam on the other side. He brushes in without an invitation and shuts the door.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, unspoken words strung out between them, before Zayn gives in and pretty much collapses, leaning on Liam for support. He buries his face in the space between Liam’s neck and shoulder. Liam brushes his fingers over the small hairs at the back of Zayn’s neck and mutters soothing words to calm him down.

“Shh, you’re gonna do great.”

Zayn shakes his head and pulls back. “I can’t do this. Why did I think I could do this?”

Liam gives him a look that’s a cross between wanting to smack him and wanting to hug him again. He does neither.

“You’ve been doing this for three years. You’re perfect, Zayn.”

 _No_ , Zayn wants to argue, _No, no no,_   _if there’s such a thing as perfect, I’m pretty sure it’s you_ . _I’m not even close._

“Everyone loves your songs; everyone loves your voice; everyone loves _you_.” Liam takes his hand, intertwines their fingers and squeezes, a reassuring pressure. “Louis and Niall are on stage. Let’s go watch, yeah? It’ll be a good distraction.”

Zayn nods eventually, thinks _I’ll go wherever you take me_ , and follows him out the bathroom door.

 

+

It’s their second week on tour and nearly one o’clock in the morning, when Louis knocks on his hotel room door. He barges in, brushing past Zayn and ignoring his extremely sarcastic comment of, “Sure, please come in.”

“Okay, I need to talk to you about ‘you and Liam.’”

Zayn thinks about opening the door back up and shoving Louis out.

“What about us?”

And he swears Louis gets a little more confident at that, like Zayn saying ‘us’ confirmed everything for him.

“You can’t tell me it’s not real because then my poor heart would just give out and I don’t think I could handle that.”

Zayn rubs his face and sits back down on the bed.

Louis crosses and uncrosses his arm and taps his foot impatiently.

“Well?” he asks.

“What do you want me to say? Clearly Liam’s not here with me.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Please, I’m not stupid.”

But maybe Zayn is, because he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on.

“Well, so?” Louis sits down on the bed next to him.

“Liam doesn’t like me like that.”

Louis rolls his eyes and waves it off like it’s no big deal; even though Zayn’s pretty sure it is a big deal. Actually, yes, the biggest deal. Something that haunts his thoughts every waking hour of the day. And usually his sleep, too. When he actually does manage to get some sleep.

“But,” he presses, “you . . .” 

"What is this, primary school?"

Louis just waits and Zayn sighs.

He thinks about lying for a half a second, but what's the point? “Well, I mean . . . yeah, _obviously_. Who wouldn’t? Look at him. He’s, y’know, gorgeous and he sings like a fucking angel.” And he looks after Zayn even though Zayn’s the older of the two. And he fits into Liam’s side like he was made to be there. When they hold hands it’s like puzzle pieces clicking together. And Zayn wants to sing him every stupid, cheesy, cliche love song ever written.

Louis presses his hand to his mouth and squeals. “Oh my God, I knew it.”

Zayn narrows his eyes and wonders why he thought telling Louis all of this was a good idea.

But then Louis takes his hand and squeezes it and says, “It’s okay, Zayn-ey, you can tell me everything.”

And Zayn’s surprised to find himself opening his mouth and doing just that.

+

Louis looks completely high when Zayn gets off stage the next night. He’s beaming too brightly and sighing like he’s in complete contentment. Zayn mentions something about going to smoke and Louis follows him outside without a word.

It’s quiet for about two minutes – which is probably an accomplishment for Louis, really – before the older boy says, “You are just way too good looking, Zayn.”

He looks down at Louis, thinking maybe he really is high, but then Louis continues talking.

“No, I’m serious. Like. How does Liam not just jump you?”

Zayn lets out a choking sound, halfway between a cough and a laugh. “Wha-what?”

“Been thinkin’ bout it myself, actually.” He winks.

Zayn sucks on the cigarette until he thinks he’s going to burst open or suffocate from all the smoke that’s inside of him. He lets it out when Louis says, “I’ve come up with a couple ideas for Operation Ziam.”

He remembers the conversation from the night before of course, unfortunately. He’s been trying to forget about it all day, can’t believe he unloaded all of his feelings onto Louis of all people. Louis has been giving him sneaky looks all day, winking at him more than usual, but other than that Zayn’s pretty sure he’s kept all the information to himself, so that’s a plus.

“Operation Ziam,” Zayn repeats. “Right. Look I know – I know I said some stuff, but really it’s better, just . . .  It’s just fine how things are.”

Louis looks at him like he’s about four years old. “ANYWAYS,” he continues in a loud voice. “Part one: make yourself look even more irresistible so Liam has no choice but _to_ jump you.” Louis looks over him quickly and Zayn feels like tugging his faux-leather jacket around himself tighter. “If that’s even possible,” Louis adds with a smirk. “It would help, though, if you got some sleep.”

Zayn frowns. “I do.”

Louis, of course, doesn’t believe him for a second. “Right. When’s the last time you looked in a mirror?”

“Uh . . .” He doesn’t actually have an answer for that one.

“That’s what I thought. When did you go to bed last night?”

He feels like pointing out that Louis was the one who knocked on his door at one o’clock in the morning, but it’s not like he’d been asleep anyways, so.

He shrugs. “After you left,” he lies. Louis frowns and Zayn sighs. “I just – I don’t sleep well, alright? S’no big deal; don’t worry about it.” He shrugs.

Louis nods along but Zayn can see the wheels in his head turning.

+

They travel to their next destination all through the night and when they arrive at the hotel Zayn hasn’t got much sleep and all he wants to do is lay down in a real bed where he doesn’t have to hear the sounds of Niall and Liam bonding and Louis and Harry . . . well, he doesn’t really want to know what Louis and Harry are doing. He’s seen enough just from what they get up to when there are actually people around. 

Louis doesn't let him go lay down. He grabs his hand and pulls him to a taxi that has just let out a young couple around their age. The girl looks at them, her eyes widen for a second, but before she can say anything, Louis is shoving Zayn into the backseat of the taxi and crawling in after him. He gives the driver an address and they’re on their way.

“I made you an appointment,” Louis eventually explains, but won’t answer any of Zayn’s questions about exactly what kind of appointment he's made and Zayn starts thinking all sorts of things like how Louis is probably taking them to the desert so he can kill Zayn and bury his body.

Louis is tiny though, so Zayn could probably take him.

Maybe. 

Instead of the desert, they pull up to a small clinic. Louis just hums happily to himself and intertwines their fingers so he can pull Zayn inside.

 

Apparently being famous means nothing here (which is kind of refreshing) and they have to wait their turn. The TV’s on some nature, animal show, and it’s actually pretty interesting, but then his phone vibrates and he’s got a text from Liam to distract him from it.

_Where’re you at?_

_With Louis. Sorry. Be back soon hopefully._

When Liam doesn’t reply right away, he opens twitter. He’s bored so he ends up searching Louis Tomlinson and is surprised by what he finds.

_Just saw @louistomlinson & @zaynmalik holdings hands omg #zouis _

_Wonder if @liampayne is jealous? #zouis_

_Swear I just saw @louistomlinson and @zaynmalik get into a taxi together x so cute_

“Zouis, oh my God, that’s adorable.”

Zayn nearly jumps three feet in the air. Louis's got his chin hooked over Zayn's shoulder and smiles innocently.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you to mind your own business?”

“Oh but Zayn, you are my business.”

Louis pulls out his phone and taps away on it and then holds it up for Zayn to see.

_@zaynmalik is my business ;)_

“See!” he says.

Zayn shakes his head. “You are the weirdest person ever.”

“Bet I could get Zouis trending,” he hums to himself, deep in thought. He turns to Zayn abruptly after a moment. “Take off your shirt!”

“What?”

“If I tweet a picture of you with your shirt off they’ll go crazy! Come on, come on!”

Zayn crosses his arms over his chest, tries to disappear into his hoodie. “I’m not taking off my shirt in the middle of a clinic.”

“But if we were alone . . .”

“No.”

Louis sighs. “Fine, fine.”

Zayn’s phone vibrates. It’s another text from Liam.

_It’s cool. Niall crashed in my room._

He shoves it back in his pocket and doesn’t reply.

“You know Niall is straight,” Louis points out. Zayn’s not even upset that he was reading over his shoulder again.

“Yeah, yeah.” But it still doesn’t make him feel any better.

 

After another five minutes of waiting, and then talking to a nurse and then a doctor, Zayn leaves the clinic with a prescription for sleeping pills and instructions to lower his intake of caffeine.

(Ha.)

+

They don’t have a show that night, but they do have a photo shoot that afternoon, so Zayn sets the bottle of pills on the small table next to his hotel bed and goes to find Liam or Harry or some other form of entertainment.

 

Liam is awake, thank God, so Zayn asks him if he wants to go walk with him, find something to do and Liam agrees. He almost thinks about inviting Harry, but Liam states that Louis’s alone in the room with Harry and Zayn doesn’t want to interrupt.

“Does that bother you?” Liam asks when they’re in the elevator.

“Harry and Louis?” Zayn asks and Liam nods in confirmation. Zayn shrugs. “Why would it?”

Liam doesn’t answer.

They find a record store a couple blocks away and spend an hour looking at music and arguing over which Beatles album was the best.

By the time they leave, Liam’s all bright and happy again, and he leans on Zayn a little as they walk.

“I saw a coffee shop back the way we came,” he suggests.

Zayn nods, _sure, sure,_ but orders decaf and Liam just stares at him for much longer than is probably necessary.

+

Zayn listens to the clicking of the camera faintly for a moment before Louis hurls himself at them.

“C’mon, Niall, let’s ruin their photoshoot,” he shouts, but Niall just laughs and says, “I’m stayin’ out of this one.”

Louis frowns and looks all pouty, but then the cameraman is resituating Louis and it turns into a White Eskimo / One Direction photoshoot. 

+

It’s been a few days and Zayn has started to grow accustom to everything the sleeping pills have to offer. He starts sleeping five plus hours a night which is an accomplishment, really. He would have been happy with four, _three two one_.

He learns when he has to take the two long white pills in order to get them to work the way he wants because as much as he wishes it were true, he doesn’t just pass out after swallowing them. He does become relaxed and languid. Louis purposefully messes with him during these moments, sitting in his lap and screwing up his hair, talking about truly ridiculous things. Zayn tries to shove him away but finds he doesn’t really mind.

Everyone takes notice. Even their fans. Zayn stops spending all his time holed up in his room and even starts to join in all the conversation and activity. He's still nervous and terrified around big crowds of fans, but when it's just the five of them, he feels more relaxed than he normally would, less moody. The dark circles under his eyes start to fade away. Liam watches him, like he’s waiting for Zayn to snap any minute and go back to the way things were. He brings him coffee one morning and all Zayn says is he ‘doesn’t need it’ and then Louis is tackling him to the floor.

He goes to bed early one night; the next thing he knows, hands are shaking him awake. He’s not surprised to see Louis standing over him. “Come on, come on,” he sounds drunk, but he’s grabbing at Zayn’s hands and pulling off the warm covers and Zayn thinks _brr_ and _fuck off_ and _bloody flaming homosexual_ a couple times before he’s got pants and one of Louis’ jumpers on, and he thinks hopefully shoes, before they’re leaning on each other and walking down the hallway.

Louis says something and Zayn doesn’t know why, but he starts laughing uncontrollably and before he knows it, they’re both gasping for breath. He thinks they might get into trouble for being so loud approximately .4 seconds before Liam opens up his hotel room door and starts asking him _what_ the hell _they think they’re doing at five in the morning._

Louis laughs and says, “We’re going to go watch the sunrise,” even though Zayn’s pretty sure that was not Louis’s intention when he woke him up.

Zayn squeezes Louis’s cheeks together and tries not to stare at Liam for too long because he looks pretty and only half awake and he thinks he’d like to wake up next to that. “S’romantic,” he slurs. And then they burst into a fit of giggles again.

Liam just looks at them for a moment or two, disappointed maybe, before shutting his door.

+

The highs he gets don’t ever go away completely, and he thinks vaguely he outta call the doctor and ask him if that’s how he’s supposed to feel, but doesn’t really want to.

The further it gets into the day though the more the high starts to gradually dull. Louis comes and drops down next to him on the couch in the bus and they don’t erupt into laughter or giggles like they would have if it was still breakfast time. Zayn doesn’t know what causes Louis’ high, suspects he’s probably naturally high off life.

“So step two of Operation Ziam,” he says and Zayn doesn’t have to check to make sure no one overhears because they’re all outside playing football together - he had been playing until Liam decided it was too warm, and took off his shirt - “was going to be make Liam jealous, but.” Louis shrugs. “I really don’t think that would work. He doesn’t seem to be the jealous type and you’d have to choose between me and Harry, because Niall’s straight. And I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t want to snog Harry, and I’m _definitely_ sure Harry wouldn’t want you snogging me, so until we find a good pub or club, we’ll just have to move along.”

Zayn’s glad for that, doesn’t want to think about snogging someone else.

“So the plan is for you to spend more time with him.”

And it’s so simple Zayn has to hold back a snort. “I spend nearly twenty-four hours with him.”

Louis nods like he doesn’t quite disagree. “Yeah, yeah, but you don’t really _hang out_ with him. I’m not just talking about spending alone time together, even though when’s the last time you’ve done that?” and Zayn’s glad Louis keeps on talking and doesn’t expect an answer, because thinking about how long it’s been breaks his heart a little. “But times like these. Everyone’s out having fun and you’re in here reading a book.”

“It’s actually about Art History back in -”

Louis cuts him off there. “That’s nice, love, but really. Just because he takes off his shirt doesn’t mean you have to freak out and hide. Take off your own shirt; show him what he’s missing out on.”

Really Zayn thinks about saying no for three whole minutes, but then he’s dropping his book beside him and pulling his shirt over his head before he can talk himself out of it.

Louis claps, pats his chest - makes a comment about how he should really take a picture for all the Zouis fans - and then pulls him outside. They approach the field behind the venue where the lads’ have been kicking the ball around, Louis's dragging him along, their hands clasped together.

Liam looks at him for a couple seconds before turning to look at Louis and eying their joined hands. Niall makes a catcall and then Louis let’s go and runs to jump on Harry’s back, distracting him from kicking the ball.

The teams are uneven, sure, but Zayn’s not really helping his much because he’s a failure at all things sports related. They keep it going for hours, until they have to go inside and get ready for the show.

+

The next day is a free day, something they never have, so Zayn knocks on Liam’s door and asks him if he wants to get some breakfast, thinking they can spend the day together.

Liam says sure, but eyes him curiously, like he’s confused, so Zayn pulls him in for a hug and tells him he’s missed him.

“Well, you’ve been out with Louis a lot,” Liam notes. Zayn wonders what that has to do with anything, ‘cause sure Louis and Zayn spend a lot of time together but Louis is always blowing him off to ~~go have sex~~ with hang out with Harry, so Zayn has plenty of free time to hang out with Liam. “How’s that going?”

Zayn laughs, pulls back from the hug, and shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, Louis’s great.” But really, he doesn’t want to talk about Louis.

He really wants it to be just the two of them, but ‘breakfast’ is a word Niall can hear a mile away, so he comes out of his room blurry eyed and half asleep and tells them he’s hungry, too. So Liam invites him along, and eventually Harry and Louis join them as well.

They squeeze into a booth at the back of some café a few miles away. It’s a half circle, the booth, and Zayn’s at one end with Liam next to him, and then Niall, and then Harry, and Louis’ across from Zayn, at the other end. Louis keeps wiggling his eyes at him and Zayn has to look down so he won’t bust out laughing.

They fill up the table with more food than they can probably eat, and at one point Louis pours ice cold water down Harry’s shirt. He makes it out to be an accident, but Zayn’s not stupid. Harry retaliates by dropping an ice cube down his pants. Louis picks up a piece of fruit off his plate and throws it at Harry, but it misses and hits Niall in the cheek. So Niall throws his straw wrapper at Louis. Before Zayn knows it, he’s watching a full on food fight happening mere inches from his face. He has to duck when Harry throws a pancake and it’s around that time he finds Liam’s hands, squeezes, and motions towards the door.

They end up at a park not too far from the hotel and Zayn finds himself a swing. Liam takes the one next to him and they move slowly, not saying much of anything.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Zayn notes, which use to be his job, but now it seems they’ve switched places.

“Just got a lot on my mind, I guess,” is Liam’s reply. He doesn’t sound all _here_ if Zayn’s gonna be honest. He watches him; Liam’s staring at the ground, barely pushing his feet back and forth.

“You can talk to me, you know.” They use to talk all the time, about anything and everything. Zayn opened up to Liam faster than he’d ever opened up to another human being. Harry’s his _best friend_ and it took lots of pokes and prodding to get Zayn to talk about himself, and now Harry and he have got to this point where they can have conversations across the room and don’t even really have to talk.

Liam was different. Liam didn’t even have to try; Zayn just _wanted_ to share things with him. They'd spend hours staying up late talking about anything and everything. 

“I’m just tired,” Liam says after a couple minutes of silence. Zayn almost laughs and is about to offer him one of his sleeping pills when Liam continues. “ _So_ tired. Sometimes it’s all too much. I love it, of course, don’t get me wrong. It’s the best, but. But I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

Zayn doesn’t get what he’s talking about at first. “You mean – what?”

Liam waves his hands around, gesticulating vaguely. “You know. I want a break.”

He almost chokes. “You mean . . . you mean like a break from touring?”

Liam sighs, doesn’t meet his eyes. “I mean, maybe like a break from the band.”

Everything inside him freezes. He can’t breathe, he can’t think, it’s all he can do not to collapse right there. They cannot actually be having this conversation.

He leans over, sucking in a breath, and blinking past the burning in his eyes. “You _what_?”

Liam shrugs, like it’s no big deal and Zayn’s torn between wanting to slap him and get on his knees and beg for Liam to never leave him.

“We’re . . . I mean, the album, we’ve been working on it, and –” _And I can’t lose you._

Liam shrugs again. “We haven’t even finished one song. It’ll be okay.”

He chokes out a laugh and shakes his head, covering his face with his hands. “You’re . . . you’re talking about quitting the band.”

Liam sighs. “Not exactly. Just . . . vacation time.”

Zayn drops his hands, stands up abruptly. “I have to . . . I have to not be here right now.” And without waiting for a response, he starts running, overly aware of the fact that Liam doesn’t call for him to come back, doesn’t even say his name.

+

Zayn doesn’t get out of bed for the rest of the day or night and misses the interview the next morning. He’s bolted his door shut, so even if they wanted to, no one could come in.

He really thinks he could die right here, right now, and he wouldn’t mind. He’s almost convinced no one would miss him.

Louis bangs on his door for fifteen minutes straight though, so Zayn thinks maybe _he_ would at least miss him.

He lets him in and staggers a little, just standing there while Louis shuts the door.

“What on Earth is _wrong_?”

And then Zayn just _breaks_. There’s no other way to describe it. He sags forward and Louis catches him. He rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, lets out this deep sigh and Louis’ arms encircle him completely.

“It hurts,” he manages.

“What? Something hurts? Did the pills do something? Did you… Oh fuck, do you need a doctor or . . . ?”

Zayn shakes his head. “My heart hurts.” He staggers backwards, away from Louis. “I think it’s broken.” He sounds completely pathetic, but he doesn’t care. He’s past the point of caring.

Louis sucks in a breath, mutters something like _I should’ve known_ and leads him back to the bed. Zayn curls in on himself and refuses to move when Louis pulls on his arm.

“What happened?” he asks, giving up.

“He wants to quit the band.” Zayn knows Liam said _break_ but all Zayn can hear is _quit quit quit_ ringing over and over in his head.

And then Louis is on his feet. “ _What_?”

Zayn nods, opens his eyes and eyes his bottle of sleeping pills. He reaches for them. “Yeah, so if you don’t mind, I’m just going to take a couple dozen of these and not ever wake up again.”

Louis jumps on him, pinning his arms to his side. He rolls his eyes. “God, you’re so pathetic.” He sounds sympathetic, though.

Zayn squeezes his eye shut. “I’m aware.”

Louis gets off of him slowly. “I’m going to go get Harry.” He feels eyes on him and then Louis says, “Actually I’m going to call Harry, because I don’t trust you to be alone right now.”

He hears Louis get out his phone and then he’s saying, “We have a Zayn-mergency.”

It only takes Harry a minute to make it to his room. “Hey, where’ve you been, mate? Not feeling well?” His eyes lock onto Zayn’s, though and he sighs. “Liam?” he guesses.

Zayn covers his face with his hands and groans loudly. “You knew?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “’Course. You’re like seventeen shades of obvious.” There’s a dip in the bed and then Harry’s pulling Zayn closer to him. “Come ‘ere.” He runs his hand up and down Zayn’s back. “It’s okay, Zayn, Liam’s just a little blind.”

Louis joins them on the bed. “You need to like, make a romantic gesture. You should write him a letter, no – wait, a song! I mean, you’re good at writing songs.” He laughs then. “Or maybe you should just kiss him on stage.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “And what do I do when he freaks the fuck out and punches me?”

Louis shrugs. “Pretend to be drunk? Or you could get really drunk and then go from there.”

“I think,” Harry says after a couple minutes of silence, “that you should probably just talk to him.”

He shakes his head, pushes himself away from Harry. “No, definitely not.” He doesn’t mention the fact that Liam wants to ‘take a break’ from the band, doesn’t think Harry could handle that right now. Also there’s a part of him who thinks if he doesn’t say it out loud (anymore) then it won’t be true.

“So you’re just going to hide in this hotel room for the rest of your life?” Harry asks.

Zayn nods. “As a matter of fact, yes. Room service, a nice bed, what more do I need?”

 

They hang out in Zayn’s room for a little bit until he all but throws them out the door, assuring them he’s not going to do anything like swallow all his sleeping pills.

He’s got a little bit of time before sound check, so he pulls out his lyric journal. He doesn’t know if Louis was serious about writing Liam a song, but he thinks getting it all out might be a good idea, even if he never shows Liam or anyone else.

Zayn has written songs that ended up having a lot to do with Liam before, but he’s never sat down and actually tried to write one about him. So it’s definitely not something he’s use to, and he sits there for nearly fifteen minutes with a blank mind and almost gives up.

Then he thinks back to the first time he met Liam, when Harry introduced them, when they decided to start a band. He remembers when he heard Liam sing for the first time and felt weak in the knees. He thinks of being on stage and looking over and seeing Liam, Liam looking back and smiling. Those nights when they’d stay up all night talking or watching movies. He thinks of being on tour and going on mini-adventures, walking through strange towns in the middle of the night. Of Liam grasping his hand, interlocking their fingers. Of Liam laughing, laughing, laughing. Liam saying, "I'm so proud of you," and hugging him. Of locking himself in the bathroom, near-throwing up from nerves, and Liam being the only one to calm him down. 

And then it’s like everything just comes pouring out of him and he’s coming up with lyrics faster than his hand can write them. Twenty minutes later and he’s got the basics of a song down.

He stares at one line in particular.

_Baby, if I ask you to stay,_

_would you change your mind?_

He circles it a couple times, underlines it, rubs his hand over his face, scratches it out, and starts all over again.

 

He catches Niall’s attention during the show that night. He pulls him aside, out of earshot.

“I’ve been working on this song, yeah, and I was thinkin’ maybe you could help me with the melody?”

Niall bobs his head quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. There's sweat dripping down the side of his face. “Yeah, yeah, ‘course.”

+

They work on it all night and into the next morning. By the time they’re done there are plates and bowls from room service around the room, candy wrappers, empty pop bottles; and they’re both exhausted.

There’s a light in Zayn’s eyes though, hope in his chest, and he clings to that to get through the rest of the day.

+

They’re in the tour bus, not doing much of anything, when it happens. They’re traveling God knows where and Zayn’s reading his Art History book, his head pillowed on Louis’s thighs. Harry’s asleep on Louis’s shoulder – the older boy had his hand in Harry’s hair, massaging lightly, and Harry had just zonked out. Niall’s on the floor, playing Mario kart on someone’s Nintendo DS, and Liam is on the other couch, strumming on Niall’s guitar. 

(Why they have two buses, Zayn doesn't know.) 

Paul comes in from the back, ending a phone call. His eyes rake over them before he says, “That wasn’t your best show.”

Harry grumbles, eyes blinking open. “Wha-?” and Louis says, “Shh, go back to sleep, babe.”  

Liam shifts and turns his head just barely to look at Zayn and then says his name. All drawled out like it’s supposed to mean something.

And apparently that’s Zayn’s snapping point. He sits up, crosses his arm, and says, “Don't blame me. You’re the one who wants to leave the fucking band.”

The reaction on Liam’s face tells Zayn he made a mistake, that Liam hadn’t been saying his name in a _you’re the reason we didn’t do great, Zayn_ way but in a _Zayn, I need to talk to you_ way. And Zayn wonders when he stopped being able to tell these things apart. He wants to take it back, but it’s too late. Harry’s eyes have gone wide and he’s fully sitting up now. Liam looks like he's blinking back tears. And Zayn hates himself a little bit.

“You want to quit the band?” Harry asks slowly.

Liam stands up. “I _never_ said that. All I said was I needed a break.”

“A break,” Harry repeats, trying out the word in his mouth. He shakes his head. “No. Why?”

Liam’s eyes meet Zayn’s for a fraction of a second. It’s not much of anything, but Zayn sees all he needs to in that moment. It’s because of him. Liam wants to leave the band _because of him_.

Zayn kind of sort of wishes he was the violent angry type, so he could throw something or toss over a chair just so he'd have some kind of release or something to focus on other than the aching pain in his chest, but there’s nothing.

This must be what rock bottom feels like. His pulse raises radically, his heart hammering in his chest. His hands grip tightly into fists at his side. He needs to get out; he needs to leave; he can’t be here anymore.

He can’t really _go_ anywhere, though. They’re on a moving bus.

So he hides in the bathroom for the four hours it takes to get to the next venue, he puts his headphones in and turns the volume all the way up and when he checks twitter and sees that ziam is _still_ trending, he throws his phone against the wall. And the fact that it _doesn’t_ break into a million pieces like he kind of expected, just makes everything worse.

+

It’s really awkward walking into the hotel later that night when the future of their band is in jeopardy.

Niall and Louis are off to one side, like they don’t want to intrude and don’t know if it’s their place to say anything.

When they get upstairs Harry makes it perfectly clear he doesn’t want to talk to anyone, slamming his door, so Louis ends up bunking with Niall.

He knocks on Zayn’s door the next morning though, asking him how he is.

Zayn shrugs. “Nothing I can do really.”

Louis’s got his lip caught between his teeth. “I still think you should talk to him.”

“I wrote him a song,” he blurts out, frustrated.

Louis’s eyes widen. “Really? Can I see?”

 _No_. He shows it to him and Louis nods, quickly, looking more excited the further into the song he gets.

“Good, good, great. You should, like, I don’t know, play it for him.”

Zayn wants to laugh and gives him this disbelieving look, but then an idea strikes him and he’s got his pencil, and he’s scribbling names next to the verses.

+

Barstools are set up on the stage of an empty venue. Sound check doesn’t start for another three hours so the place is practically empty. Zayn paces back and forth in the circle they've formed out of the stools.

“Calm down,” Louis says. He’s sitting on one of the barstools, swinging his feet back and forth. It’s kind of adorable, but Zayn also kind of wants to punch him.

He glares at him instead and then goes back to pacing.

“You know,” Niall chimes in, “I think it’s gonna work. We wrote an awesome fucking song.” He’s sitting on the floor, guitar in his lap, eating a piece of pizza that Zayn has no clue where he got.

“True.” Louis nods. He looks up suddenly, eyes towards backstage. “They’re here.”

“I’m going to throw up,” Zayn says. He stops pacing, moves so he can stand in front of Louis.

Louis shakes his head and jumps down from the barstool. He places his hands on Zayn’s shoulders and spins him around.

“You got this. You’re Zayn fucking Malik. You serenade fans every night on stages just like this one. You can do anything. Only an idiot wouldn’t be in love with you.”

“It’s true,” Niall says, swallowing the last of the pizza. “Even I’m a bit in love with you.”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply, because Harry and Liam walk around the corner.

Harry’s grinning like a maniac. Liam eyes them all a bit suspiciously. “What’s going on?”

Zayn had words planned out, not a speech or anything, but _things_ to say, important things. That all goes out the window when he sees Liam’s bloodshot eyes and the bags under them.

“I wrote you a song,” he says. He clears his throat. “Niall helped. A lot. Here.” He thrusts the copy of lyrics at him and then backs up until his legs meet a barstool.

Harry rolls his eyes but leads Liam to another stool and makes him sit down. Then he goes and sits in the empty one next to Louis. Niall doesn’t get off the floor, but he does start strumming.

Louis starts.

“ _The end of the night,_

_We should say goodbye,_

_But we carry on_

_While everyone’s gone._ ”

Zayn almost misses his cue. He’s shaking so badly, worse than he ever has before going on in front of hundreds of thousands of people. He sucks in a breath though, closes his eyes, and sings.

“ _Never felt like this before._

_Are we friends or are we more?_

_As I’m walking towards the door,_

_I’m not sure._ ”

He blinks his eyes open. Liam is staring at him. Zayn keeps going, doesn't look away.

“ _But, baby, if you say you want me to stay,_

_I’ll change my mind._

_‘Cause I don’t wanna know I’m walking away_

_If you’ll be mine._

_Won’t go, won’t go._

_So, baby, if you say you want me to stay,_

_Stay for the night,_

_I’ll change my mind.”_

They keep going, around the circle, until Niall's playing the last chords.

Zayn shuts his mouth, presses his lips together so tight they're probably turning white. Liam’s looking down, at the lyrics in his hands.

“What is this?” he asks without looking up.

Zayn opens his mouth, closes it.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he settles on eventually.

Harry shoves Zayn forward, urging him on with his eyes.

“Take a break from the band or don't, that’s your decision, but before you make one, you need to know. I’m sorry for the past few days, everything that's happened and also I'm kind of… okay, not kind of, _definitely, 100 percent_ head over heels in love with you.”

Liam looks up quickly, eyes wide. He glances at Louis, then Harry, before settling his gaze back on Zayn. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” and _God_ , it feels so good to get the words off his chest. “I have been, for like two and a half years now.”

Liam’s eyes flicker around the circle quickly, then he looks down, back at the paper. “Zayn… I…”

And oh, no. Nevermind. He wants to take it all back. Liam’s about to break his heart.

“Whatever you three have going on… I don’t really understand it, but it’s your life, and I’m happy for you, but I can’t…I can’t do that. I can’t _share_ you.”

Zayn counts the beats of silence, trying to understand Liam’s words.

“Share me?” he repeats, blinking slowly, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you and Louis, and Louis and Harry… whatever that all is.”

“Oh my God!” Louis says from somewhere off to his right. “Step 2!”

Step 2?

Zayn glances back at Louis. Step 2? And then he remembers... Louis had said: _“So step two of Operation Ziam was going to be make Liam jealous,”_

“Totally not on purpose,” Louis says now. “And also it kind of backfired. Oops.”

Zayn looks back at Liam. The younger boy looks confused now as well. 

“What?”

“I’m not dating Louis,” Zayn says. “Or Harry. Or anyone for that matter. I haven’t even looked at anyone that way since you.”

“But… you two are _always_ together… and like… _together_.”

“Oh my god, Louis, you ruin everything!” Harry groans.

“It wasn’t on purpose! We had a plan!”

Zayn ignores them.

“You love me?” Liam asks quietly.

Zayn nods. “So much.” He’s vaguely aware of the others leaving. “Please don’t quit the band.”

Liam lets out a breathy laugh and shakes his head. “I thought… I was so sure… and I couldn’t… I couldn’t be around it anymore. Like I was so jealous, I felt sick to my stomach.”

“Jealous?” He takes a step forward, closing more of the space between them. “Does that mean…?”

Liam reaches out, brushes his hands lightly through the short hair on the side of Zayn's head. Zayn automatically leans into the touch.

“I love you,” Liam says. “I’ve always loved you.”

“Always?”

“Always,” Liam assures. “Don’t quote Harry Potter at me.”

He grins and Zayn kisses him because there’s really nothing else to do at that point.


End file.
